The Finer Things in Life
by Loveable Otaku
Summary: That's what she wants to enjoy in a world where it's better not to. OC.
1. The Girl Who Copied Jesus

**Lovely O is back. I know this is short, but...sigh...just make sure to read the message down below.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Boku no Hero Academia. I do, however, own the heroine of the story who's name I shan't not reveal.**

* * *

 _ **Chapter 1: The Girl Who Copied Jesus**_

When Midoriya Izuku sees her, standing in the middle of the lake, he comes to a full stop and stares. Minutes are swatting away, and his school, his dream school, Yuuei Academy, is waiting, just a few blocks ahead. He decided cutting through the park would be an easier route, and since his mood was considerably bright today—his dream of becoming a hero isn't a far-off reality anymore—a sweet,winter wonderland scenery sounded like a good way to start the day.

But walking on water…if quirks were just a fantasy, he would've thought she'd be the Messiah. Yup, the second coming of Christ in form of a girl in a marshmallow puff jacket that seemed to swallow her. Yet, since Izuku likes to plan, likes steps and stages and knowing outcomes, and the satisfaction that came with reaching an endpoint due to his own careful machinations, he thinks up a bunch of ideas of what her quirk could be.

His jaw, that he had no idea was open, slams shut once the girl glances across the lake to him. It's an incredible long stare and silence, and Izuku, being the cornerstone of all awkward, squeaks and stumbles with his words until he decides it's better to shut up. He was never any good at talking to girls, and girls wouldn't usually approach him, mostly because he was a 'quirkless dipshit', or other finer comments sent his way. But then, All Might entered his life, and everything that was a gray became a subtle gray, still there, but not as loud as before.

The girl scratches her cheeks, maybe because the look Izuku is giving is sort of painful, and waves her hand in dismissal.

"Um, " she says, "Don't mind me. It's just the wind. My wallet blew into the lake…yup." That word tacked at the end sums that this isn't going anywhere. She breaks her stare, shakes her wallet, which dripped water in its sympathy, and checks the time on her phone.

"Man, I'm going to be late," she says with such great indifference. Her eyes then bug out. "Without having my mornin' tea!" She stuffs her belongings back in her bag and, as if the lake is as solid as concrete, breaks into a sprint, scarf sailing behind her, leaves disturbed in the lake twisting and crashing into each other.

The lingering sounds are fast splashes of her feet against the water, and once Izuku doesn't hear the sounds anymore, he assumes that she probably stepped back on land or is far ahead of him now. He still wonders about her quirk, the things she can do, the feats she can perform, but that takes a backburner as he realizes that, yes, she was a girl, and, well, from afar, she looked pretty. A dopey smile splits his face.

 _I actually talked to a girl!_

Even though he said nothing at all, but he disregards that fact as he continues his way to Yuuei.

* * *

 **A/N Important Note If You Care About My Other Stories: Yeah...I haven't been here for a while, but with good reasons too. College, Work, and I'm starting my own novel series, and I'm sorry my friends, but this series takes up way more importance than** **fanfiction. I'm doing this story as a last resort to see if I'm still into writing fan fiction. I do sometimes think about continuing my other stories because I actually do have things all mapped out for all of them, but...Idk. What I'm thinking of doing is auctioning my stories off to more willing authors who can do the stories justice. Not only the stories on fan , but I had other OCs and stories for other works all mapped out in my writing book. I had OCs in other works like Kingdom Hearts, Parasyte, Yu Yu Hakusho, Gurren Lagann, Cage of Eden,HOTD, Jak and Dexter. It's a lot. So, I haven't fully decided yet, but I might draw my OCs, explain their importance to the story and other things, and post them on deviantart. Anyone who wants to take up the mantle can visit my deviant, read up on my OC, and PM me if they're really set on taking the story. Thanks for reading! I can't guarantee promises right now, but I will try my hardest to see this story through.**


	2. Tests, Strangers, Near-Death Experiences

**_College is starting soon. Ha ha ha...hopefully, you'll see me_**

 ** _Disclaimer: I do not own Boku no Hero Academia. Only the OCs in this story._**

* * *

 ** _Chapter 2: Tests, Strangers, Near-Death Experiences, Oh Crap!_**

 **[EDITED: 12/1/16]**

Nise Mohoka barely makes it to school, hitting that eight o clock mark by a minute. She was lucky the cashier was nice enough to take her sodden money after the wind slapped her wallet out of her hand and it landed in the lake. The look the cashier had shot her was vaguely pitiful, but she offered him a smile, one that begged for him not to contribute to the start of a potential shitty day. Even if it was the practice skill exam for her new high school, she couldn't miss out on a hot cup of her favorite tea. The tea stocks were finished and her father forgot to fill it up…again. He did have to go to his office early, to look over some articles, he said, all smiles, looking like an actor from a cheap, cheesy ad.

She ditches her empty cup of hazelnut chai in a nearby trash can and falls in with the crowd of kids entering Yuuei Academy, the top school recognized for breeding heroes, considered to be # 1 in the world.

Mohoka scowls. It was her Dad who ninja kicked her out of bed this morning. If it was up to her, a stack of pancakes, and a batch of anime reruns would be an epic day. It was also her Dad that insisted for her to apply to his alma mater, Yuuei, which is weird because he isn't a super hero himself. She doesn't question it even though she knows she should.

It was a deal of some sorts. Only three years, and then she could choose her own adventure. Her Dad wouldn't push the hero life onto her unless she gets accepted and stay in Yuuei for the full four years. Only if she gets accepted, huh? She clutches her bag with a smirk.

By the time Mohoka enters the auditorium—an auditorium that's annoyingly big—the place is packed with kids, even some international kids she notices as she passes by a band of kids speaking English. Curious, and checking if she still remembers some English from middle school, she listens in on their conversation. By what they are saying, they sound like licensed jackasses.

Standing in this place, her first reaction is to swim up through the stream of kids to the exit. She pushes that away and wanders into a seat—preferably in the back—just before someone bounces onto the stage, and all the chatter dies down. Mohoka couldn't make out the person, but knew that voice. She always cursed it because her Dad would wake her up, blaring his radio show, and seriously, no one can be that enthusiastic that early in the morning.

"Present Mic…" she mutters with a frown as she watches him explode in an energy bomb of words and arms. With his winged hair and speaker-like vocals (he literally has a radio around his neck like a choker) he looks more obnoxious than she thought he'd be. How long has it been? Five minutes? Ok.

Save for one amazed squeal, it is silent as a grave, and Mohoka is in between laughing or putting her head in her hands. As Present Mic drags on, she contemplates the merits of taking a nap until one person, ten rows in front of her, shoots up from his seat, obviously offended by what Present Mic said or something.

"You said there'd be three villains, but on the hand out it says four!" The kid shouts, and he sounds like he's in such emotional pain for reasons Mohoka didn't want to explore. And handout? She didn't get a handout. Well, she did slip in here the last minute.

The kid continues his emotional rant, "Such an error would be the height of embarrassment for such a top tier academy! The reason we are seated here today is because we seek guidance on the path to becoming model heroes!"

Mohoka couldn't help but send a scandalized stare at the boy who was talking. He couldn't see it, but she hope he could feel her angsty stare from ten rows away. He's freaking out over a typo, so, he officially labeled himself as a hardass. Just to make sure his title is locked in place, he stops his rant and turns behind him to point at a kid, pinning him with the same amount of attention as himself.

"And you…Yes, you with the curly hair! What's up with you, fidgeting and squealing! Can't you sit still for a second! You're distracting! If you think Yuuei is some pleasure jaunt, leave at once!"

"Sorry." Mohoka hears a quiet mutter, quiet like a cat's meow.

Now she knew the person who was squealing at Present Mic's voice. Around him, kids laugh, snicker behind their hands, and Mohoka sighs and blesses the poor soul who was put on blast like that. Assumptions could be made, many assumptions that possibly would question that kid's mental state.

Minutes tick by as Present Mic's voice run laps around the auditorium. The rules for the exam sounded like a giant rip-off of Super Mario Brothers, especially the supposed fourth villain worth zero points in which Present Mic made a direct reference to the Thwomp cinderblock from Mario

"If they really wanted to make this a great rip off, they should've used Bowser," Mohoka mutters, actually disappointed. "It's usually him in the games."

She should've brought her Nintendo 3DS.

"Now let's move to the main event, the Plus Ultra!"

* * *

So, her plan to purposefully forget her gym clothes failed, epically.

Mohoka had it all in her head. She'd forget her clothes at home, and they wouldn't let her participate. Then she'd go home and tell her father about Yuuei and their injustices and their blatant hatred for Western fashion. Yet, once she opened her bag, she saw a new set of gym clothes, flat and folded, fresh from the store, and a new pair of shoes; Reebok to boot. Next to it was a black bento box with sakura blossoms sprinkled on the cover. When Mohoka opened it, she made a face, a face that if someone were in the vicinity, they would've deemed it the worst frown ever, since the creation of man. Then they would've probably taken a picture and made it a meme.

Written on the rice was 'NICE TRY' in cheerful pink dyed nori. Taped underneath the bento box was a little sticky note that said, 'a deal's a deal.'

Now here she is dressed in her gym clothes and red hair in a tight tail, arms crossed, still wondering how her Dad was able to ghost his way into her bag. She had her eyes trained on that bag. He probably did that when she was sleeping, that sneaky old man. She knew she should've locked her door.

But knowing her Dad that would be good as attacking with a paper ball in a knife fight.

The place that they are having the Plus Ultra exam is in this training area that looked like a mix of Tokyo and New York City (well, from the pictures she's seen from her father's imported magazines). Skyscrapers, buildings, shops, traffic lights, sidewalks; it's like a little Yuuei Academy city. While everyone is awestruck by the sights, Mohoka thinks where and how much money they've siphoned to build this just for it to be destroyed by examinees.

Would it be okay if she hides in one of the buildings why everyone did their own thing?

Well, her father made it sparkling clear that he'd chew her out for an eternity if she purposely fails. She smirks.

Oh well! She can suck it up.

Laughter shakes her from her thoughts, and she turns to see a horizon of kids laughing at…whatever the hell they're laughing at. Curious, Mohoka goes to see, but can only see a tuff of an impressive green afro, one that looks weirdly similar. What was the name of those toys? Trolls?

"And start!"

Everyone turns to see Present Mic stunting on one of the towers behind them, and just stared in general confusion, or maybe pitiful stupidity for Present Mic, who clearly didn't know how to countdown

"There's no such thing as a countdown in real battle! Run!"

Mohoka moves aside from the stampede of kids dashing into the city, screaming, pushing, and whatnot. She couldn't really be bothered to join the mass. Present Mic did say that there were villains placed all over the city. She's bound to encounter one eventually. Plus, she didn't want to be mush on the soles of someone's feet.

While the last person in the crowd darts past her, her feet are barely at a drag.

"Come on, examinee 7820! At that pace, there'll be no villains left for you to beat!"

"Don't you see I'm going," Mohoka groans at the unwarranted attention, rolling her eyes.

She will and is going to go at her own pace. Shouldn't Present Mic get a penalty or something for pressuring a student (though 97% of it would be Mohoka exaggerating the living fuck out of everything.) So, she ignores everything about him until he's completely out of earshot distance. She hears the loud noises of battle and robot flesh being ripped apart and can't help but whistle on how much the examinees are wrecking the place. The city looks like a third world-esque place or a post-apocalyptic catastrophe, like Akira or some shit, save for a guy frolicking about and flashing his navel that shoot lasers.

A very weird quirk.

Mohoka dodges a runaway robot part—most likely from someone's attack, jerk—and focuses very hard on becoming one with the building behind her. Not because she's afraid, but mostly to supervise, and she also kind of needs to laugh, especially at the 'oh shit' faces people have on scrambling for villains.

One came sooner than she anticipated, however, the robot busting through the building across from her, posing in front of her with a big number two on it. The jumpscare didn't really spook her. In matter of fact, the pose the robot is in is very model worthy, enough for professional level.

"I'm sure lots of modeling companies would like to have you," Mohoka says as the robot, who probably took offense to that, swings its arm down.

She rolls out the way, not the better choice with pieces of concrete, glass, and other things on the ground, but still a helpful dodge. It was a quick attack, quick for the size of the robot. The robot is huge, but not as huge as the buildings. The buildings are too dense for her to use though, Mohoka thinks, and scans the robot, just to dodge another blow, barely by an inch this time. She needs something with at least equal density to beat this cat-walking robot.

She looks at the robot again.

"With enough speed and momentum, it'll be more than enough," Mohoka murmurs, flexing her fingers.

It's always a quick process, and she never really felt it, her quirk. That is one thing she actually likes about her quirk: no charging or powering up to get her point across that she's going to fucking maim you. It isn't overly complicated either, well, at least to her. Just one touch is all she needs, and she's set.

The robot aims for another blow, and she allows it, taunting the robot with her own model-like pose, which isn't really model-like, more of _The Grudge_ -like. At the strike, she evades, not too far away, enough to remain unscathed and touch the robot arm. Just one touch.

These lasers are gonna tear her a new asshole, the robot must've thought as it makes a mechanic howl, and pops out several gun barrels. She bobs and weaves through the lasers; a consistent pattern until she's reaches the robot's stomach. She made sure that she was fast with her maneuvers, collecting all the speed she could get.

She punches, hard enough for her teeth to rumble in her mouth, and the robot flies, skipping and tripping until the landing explodes it into tiny pieces.

"Huh…I'm gonna miss that modeling robot," Mohoka says, all sympathy.

"Five minutes and twenty seconds left~~!" Present Mic's voice announces.

She shouldn't feel a strain for a good while now. She can still use the same absorption to defeat other robots, another likeable trait of her quirk.

Around the time that there's barely two minutes left, Mohoka is tired, and ready to give up on the entire institution of tests. Defeating these robots is one hell of a chore, especially the three point robots, go figure. Melee attacks, guns, _and_ lasers; unfair at its finest. Yeah, the argument could be made that test aren't really supposed to be fair, but Mohoka always believed that if something is unfair, you weren't suppose to try in the first place. But, in roughly four minutes, she was able to raise her points from 2 to 34.

"Thirty-four points should be enough," She says, staring blankly at the ceiling. The passing mark is 40 points, she realizes.

Oh well!

The staff is probably watching them through the ceiling, and laughing themselves sick, thinking this is the best, best shit ever, like, best. Mohoka has half a mind to blow them a raspberry when Present Mic's voice (loudly, always loudly) echoes again.

"I hope you guys like this one! We call this one, the Gimmick!"

Mohoka cocks an eyebrow. "The Gimmick? What in the…?"

A record-breaking crash (no, seriously, there's been so many robot crashing out of nowhere that it broke the logic of counting) and everyone turns to see a Godzilla size robot walking so casually towards them. Decked out in everything that the other robots had (those damn annoying lasers) and more, if this robot had a face, it would've been a smug smirk of 'each and everyone of you are getting your asses kicked.' Everyone freezes like hunted animals, and Mohoka squeaks a little.

 _What the hell are we in, Gundam!?_

Mohoka is amazed how everyone is still standing gawking at the thing, until a decent size hole on the robot pops out, and slurps up a building in one strong suck; that's when everyone hightails it out.

Mohoka's eyes are on the backs of too many heads, all which are blocking the way to the exit. Her hiding in a building idea doesn't seem bad right now, she thinks as she joins the running crowd. She has to admit, she's a little spooked cause this thing is murking everything in sight, and really, how is Yuuei allowed to pull stunts like this? This is against so many human rights laws. Above the screaming, she could hear Present Mic bruising his kidneys with laughter, having a grand time, and Mohoka bites her lips in annoyance, takes in hindsight that she can sue them to non-existence if anything happens to her.

"Oww! Ouch!"

Mohoka isn't a horrible person. She wants everyone aware of that. She wants to ignore the cry, mainly because she didn't want to participate in this shitstorm anymore.

She turns around, and it's like a scene from a cliché movie.

A girl, face squeezed in obvious pain, is trying to get up off the ground, struggling, just to fall back down. Mohoka gets a good look and sees her left ankle is buried underneath rubble. She clenches her fist. She doesn't want to save anyone, doesn't want to be here. She didn't even want to take this stupid test.

"Ouch…!"

Mohoka doesn't remember moving; only that she's suddenly by the girl's side, kicking and scratching at the rubble burying her foot.

The strain from using her quirk too long starts to kick in at a extremely wrong time, coming in as tiny pricks, and she grits her teeth at the fact that she might not be able to carry the girl if the strain comes full force.

She swats away the last of the rubble, and pulls the girl up. "C'mon, we gotta go," She grits out between teeth that is gnashing together, withholding the small sharp pain.

"But," The girl whispers, pale and sweaty, until shortly gasping most of her breath away. Mohoka doesn't look up, doesn't need to, judging by a giant shadow hovering over them. The Gimmick lets out a nasty creak that seems to rock the very ground. She can hear the girl's whimpers, and Mohoka breathes hard; she's not sure whether it's from frustration or to mask her own whimpers.

It's strange how the people who want to be heroes skip out on actually trying to save someone. She can't even call this a rescue because she's practical, infinitely practical, enough to know that she can't beat this psychotic robot nor can she help this person. Her legs are already on the brink of dashing out of here (cowardice…no, she's just so _done)_ ; the strain is gradually getting worst. Mohoka closes her eyes in certainty.

 _Now I know I'm not cut out for this hero thing_

The sound of running, frantic and swift, comes from behind her, and by the time she opens her eyes to register that the Gimmick didn't pulverize her till she blended in with the rubble, she hears a booming cry.

"SMASH!"

It's not jaw dropping, rather relief easing, but Mohoka couldn't help but watch the Gimmick roll into other buildings in a clobbering mess, like an aged tumbleweed. It was something to behold, how much strength was put into that punch. It has to be some sort of enhancement quirk; the boy who threw the punch looks lanky, even has an awkward position for his punch. But really, it was something to give props to.

Mohoka eyes drift to the girl once she pulls her to rest on one giant robot part that must've came from the Gimmick.

"Hold on," the girl whispers. Mohoka's organs seem to lodge in her throat once her body felt flimsy, lifting off the ground in one go. The girl is pressing her fingers together, face in a tight line.

"Defying gravity, huh?" Mohoka nods, "Pretty nice."

As it is, the boy who saved them is falling with zero grace to the ground and, as fast as floating could take them, they reach him in good time. Mohoka didn't expect to see the boy from this morning free falling, but she recognizes his face (that told many tales of awkward) wide eyes that held the same stare of confusion and awe.

Her hand grabs his. His grip is strong, but is soft and inconsistent, like he doesn't know how much to give, but she pulls him, just enough so the girl can touch him. It's kind of a poorly executed rescue, on both sides actually (because Mohoka really thinks about it and realizes she really didn't do anything), but they're all able to descend to the ground. Not safely though, the girl seems to hit her weight limit, and they all drop only an inch away from the ground.

Mohoka groans and stands, just in time to avoid the girl throwing her head behind her and retching.

"Eww gross," Mohoka whines, pinching her nose, "You'll be okay."

She then look towards the boy, planked face into the ground, his green hair puffed up like a bush growing from the rubble. His legs look like they gave up and turned into noodles, and his right arm…Mohoka winces at the singed part that is literally sizzling. Not only that, it's sickly twisted, fractures popping out of order, and it looks swollen too. Never being the one to be pegged as sentimental, she couldn't help but feel bad at how mangled he looked, just to save the girl and her, a person who didn't even want to be here.

Just this morning he looked like he was going to pass out because she stared at him too long.

She's so focused on the boy, twitching, mumbling that all he needs is _one point_ —passing is on the line—she didn't hear Present Mic's screech the end of the test, didn't hear the other kids gather beside her, all in shock and chatting fervently amongst themselves.

"Go home everyone. I'll take care of this." It took a minute to really translate. Mohoka didn't expect a gentle voice. It had a nice chime to it too.

People part aside and coming from the crowd is a bent old lady with skin like dried paper.

 _Cute_ , Mohoka thinks as she watches the lady cane-walk to the boy. _Old people are so cute._ By the looks of it, she's the nurse of Yuuei if wearing a needle pin and having a needle cane says anything. All the better by her next words.

"Hello everyone. I'm Kyouyu Kango, the recovery girl for Yuuei." Recovery girl? More like recovery grandma.

She nods her head.

"From the looks of things, it seems your body and your quirk aren't synced up, sonny boy." She smiles with a little eye crinkle. Her crow's feet look more like happy smiles. Mohoka has to resist the urge to wrap her up in comfy blankets and make her some milk tea.

She checks the boy until, to the bewilderment of everyone, smooches him on top of the head, similar to a mother kissing away the wounds on a child. Mohoka opens her mouth to question, maybe to say an unsolicited comment as well, but she sees his right arm peeling off all the damage inflicted, his fingers snapping back to shape in a matter of seconds. His arm is going back to normal, and Mohoka notices muscle, biceps, sticking out like hills.

He's not as lanky as she thought.

"All right, this poor boy should be sorted now." Kango faces the crowd of kids, "Are there anymore injured?"

Mohoka stares at the old lady, catching her words. Just seeing her, the whole test was so obvious. She whacks a hand to her forehead and, though she clearly saw, she asks through a beat up voice, "Kyouyu-san. What's your quirk?"

She turns her crinkly smile to her. "It's quite simple, dearie. I can amplify and speed up a person's healing process. Do you have any injuries?

"No, just a litt—" In a flash, Kango smacks a smooch on her cheek, and Mohoka is split between blushing at how adorable it was or running for the damn (Yuuei) hills. Besides that, her strain from before vanishes, and she rubs her right arm, her dominant arm. She guesses the boy likes to punch with his right arm too.

"Thank you," Mohoka smiles, some of it nice and some tired. "It was just a little muscle strain."

"Yes, but you looked a little shaken, dearie." Mohoka pauses, holds her stare a little bit, ignoring her mind for a few seconds because _why would she feel any type of way about this_ and then snorts midway into a scoff. She decides to change the subject, to something not about her.

"I guess that's the reason Yuuei gets to pull so many sue-worthy stunts, because of your quirk. Not only that," Her eyes wonder to the boy on the ground, probably knocked out at this point. "There was more to just smashing robots."

Kango laughs. "You're a clever girl. Here, have some candy."

She fishes through her pocket and drops some hard candy in Mohoka's hand. They're watermelon flavored, the type of candy abandoned by the youth and adored by the old. She pops one into her mouth and scrunches her nose. It's muted and bland, the flavor, but it's the thought that counts.

"Do you know this boy?" Kango asks.

"No." Her answer is more abrupt than she intends, but she thinks this rescue would've had less value if she actually knew the boy.

"Just someone who's unfortunately indebted."

* * *

 **A/N: Can you guys figure out her quirk? Do you guys have a hint on what Mohoka's quirk is, or are you still clueless, lol. You guys already know who Mohoka tried to save, right? Her name starts with an O~! (It's freaking obvious if you read the manga.)I was going to make this chapter longer, but I figured I should just put it out. Since I put out this chapter, people who are interested in adopting my stories, I will soon post up the character info for Sana, my OC for Avatar the Last Airbender. It should be on my** **deviantart by Tuesday. If anyone wants to take this story off my hands, when I post the info, read it and please PM so we can discuss it further, Thank You. Also, please review. I want to see the feedback on Mohoka. Thanks for reading.**


	3. It's Too Much

**I'm sorry for the lack of updates guys. Joyful news: Fanfiction and I went to therapy and we've decided to work things out. I officially rekindled my passion for fanfiction. Bad news: This is a short chapter. College is a raging bitch guys, but thankfully the semester for me is almost over, so once intercession hits, FREEDOM!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own the now popular Boku no Hero Academia. Only the OCs in this story.**

* * *

 _ **Chapter 3: It's Too Much...**_

So, Nise Mohoka passed the exam.

…Huh.

The test that supposed to be harder than climbing Tokyo Tower using only toes.

…Huh.

Well, at least this sedated her father. When he saw All Might give the thumbs up for passing, he decided to make her a congratulatory dinner that almost turned the house into ashes. So dinner had to, always, be on her. She knew that bento was store bought. Most likely from that custom bento place Koraru.

But she _actually_ passed? Why did they…? She did realize the test wasn't solely on smashing robots (at the very fucking end of it), but when she saw her final score, it wasn't a 34, but a 64.

That's well over passing the 40 points mark.

So they jacked up her points for rescue when really she was trying hard not to be an asshole. It was barely even a rescue.

This is supposed to be the outcome, but why, she wonders, does she feel like she's been hit by an oncoming truck?

Mohoka goes to bed at 9 p.m. but doesn't sleep until 1 a.m.

* * *

Two weeks pass when she lets her friends know that she passed. She airs it out amidst a casual day at the ice skating rink.

Her friends aren't shock, but slightly concerned. And they voice that after their time at the rink, over a hotpot.

"Just make sure not to forget about us, I guess," says Kokosa Tomo. Mohoka nods even though she knows and surely Tomo knows that Mohoka's communications skills are abysmal.

"Well, since Snapchat is a thing now, you'll see updates from there." Mohoka slurps her soda. Snapchat is really an amazing app. Kudos to the Americans whom created it. While it's fun to use the faces in the app, she mostly hops on there to see Americans post scenery. And a lot of them do it. It's like seeing America without overboard pricing and blood clot inducing plane rides.

"Wow, we're not worthy for a text." Mohoka rolls her eyes at the boy, Matsui Hato, as he shoves a piece of meat into his mouth.

"I still text, so quit it with the tiny violin." She swirls some cabbage in the ponzo sauce, soaks it, lets it relish in its soupy reality. Tomo and Hato are going to the neighborhood's local high school, Hanyu. A natural step from Shoin Junior High, their middle school. It's imminent they'll be going their separate ways this coming spring. And maybe this was compensation for the potential loss of future hangouts. They'll be going to a school where quirks aren't their identity, and classes are stimulating instead of heroic. They'll be enjoying their high school youth while she'll be learning how to survive an explosion from an unhinged villain.

It's too much.

"Too much." Her nerves are wired tight and she feels her right arm snap back from the bowl filled with ponzo sauce. The cabbage wedged between her chopsticks is dripping in ponzo sauce and now a faded sick green. She sets it on her small plate while she squints an annoyed eyeball at Hato who looks so unapologetic, and to make sure he doesn't care, he bites into a carrot between his chopsticks loud and clear.

"Too much ponzo sauce on the cabbage," is all he says.

"The many times I told you not to use your quirk on me, I should be a rich mofo." Mohoka hawk-eyes his heterochromic eyes. He just laughs it off because this is a bi-weekly thing, and if Mohoka hasn't dumped him in a bay somewhere yet, then it's ok.

"Yet, you don't want to be a hero with such an epic quirk," Tomo says, clipping her chopsticks together, "It's kind of like you have two quirks, y'know." Kind of. His blue eye controls the peripheral nervous system of another's body while his violet eye controls the central nervous system. It's all the same to Mohoka. But this isn't a new topic. Her and Tomo occasionally ask him about the opportunities that his quirk can provide for the heroes.

Tomo still asks, but she silenced her thoughts the day her father showed her a Yuuei application.

"No, not really, but being a hero is not for me. I know I can't live up to the expectations, so why force myself." She didn't miss it, that tiny glance Hato gives, that invisible: ' _Right, Mohoka?'_ Her face is blank, her mouth a line of nothing; flat line. She stuffs the marinated cabbage in her mouth. Her face then falls.

He's right. It's too much.

* * *

"Why do you want me to become a hero?"

Nise Joshima is watching t.v. on one of his off days when he's confronted by his daughter. The flat screen t.v. is shining a news report from TBS: another victory for All Might against a rampaging villain. The news anchor squeals in admiration and maybe infatuation for the Pillar of Hope, the Symbol of Peace. At least, that's what the citizens of Musutafu revere him as.

Joshima looks at his fourteen soon-to-be fifteen year-old daughter. Her red hair is out, sinking to her elbows and she's wearing a simple t-shirt and shorts. Her eyes are locked and loaded; he could tell she was already looking at him before he shifted his sight. She's holding two mugs, and there're both steaming. Tea? Definitely tea, this is Mohoka after all. She put herself in a happy coma when he refilled the tea stocks the other day.

She sits down in the single couch adjacent to the three-seated couch he's in. She puts the mugs on the polished table. "Coasters," he tells her and she does what he says, puts the Musutafu pride coasters underneath the mugs.

It's time to answer the question.

"Well, it's cool to be a hero, in my opinion. Wouldn't it be nice for people to look up to you? Plus, you'll have All Might as a teacher!"

Sometimes, he wishes that his daughter wasn't so intuitive.

She slides one of the hot drinks his way. It's a slow, graceful slide, but a definitive one. She made these for a reason. This conversation isn't meant to be a short one.

He looks down in the mug. The drink is brown and creamy and swirls with no sense of direction. Hot chocolate. It's hot chocolate, not tea. Joshima actually starts to worry now. Things aren't right.

"Why do you want me to become a hero?" She repeats. This time it echoes and stays in Joshima's head and pulls at things that he covered once upon a time ago. Almost exhumes it. He looks at her. Mohoka is composed; she was never the type to overreact, even as a young child when she was allowed to act like that with no reason.

A young girl shouldn't be like that, he always thought. There's a time when a girl needs to be emotional, but not Mohoka. She won't let anyone see what stirs beneath her skin, not even her own father. He resigned to decoding little tics about her that she unconsciously leaks out 'cause he knew any amount of harsh scolding would be moot.

She's been like that majority of her life, and maybe he can't blame her for that since he used to be like that back in his early years. The days he didn't let trivial stuff bother him, when he was so aloof to the whole world that maybe if the world started to crack and spill and shake in front of him, he would just shrug it off like any bad day.

The apple doesn't fall far from the tree. What an annoying idiom.

Joshima drinks some of the hot cocoa. It's sweet, a near perfect ratio of milk and cocoa powder. Hazel eyes meet hazel eyes. He may be hallucinating, but Mohoka's hair is shrinking, getting shorter and a little spikier. While her length fades away, her hair color does to. It's lightening to a creamy batter. No, it's a little bit more lighter than that. The color of sand when night comes to stay, her hair reflects more of that. Her chin is shaving to a more angular point and her neck is thicker than usual. Instead of a teenage girl, she's looking more and more like a teenage boy. A familiar teenage boy.

Joshima furrow his brows, but he says, in a soft, husked tone,

"Because I wasn't able to."

He blinks and his daughter is back to normal.

TBS cuts to a commercial after they finish their update on All Might. Father and daughter say nothing to each other. Not yet. Mohoka takes a small sip of her cocoa. Her posture is of a businesswoman, as if what's going on—what's suppose to be a casual father and daughter talk—is a meeting.

She never questioned it, even though he knew she should. Don't knock it till you try it, was his, honestly, thin excuse and she accepted it, outwardly (cause he'll never know the inside.) She didn't care, he could tell. And once she doesn't care, it's a dead topic.

It's been a month since she opened that envelope. She'll be going to Yuuei in two weeks. A month of stewing, he thinks. She didn't think she would pass or didn't care to. But now that she did, she's even more... _detached._

"So," She moves her lips away from her mug, "you want me to become a you that couldn't be."

Joshima grips his mug a little tighter, but his gaze is still firmly on Mohoka. He doesn't say anything. Saying something, right now, would probably make things worse. In fact, he doesn't know what to say. What unnerves him is that she knew this, even before she found out she passed. But now, she acknowledges it.

It's not that to Joshima. To him, it's a dying torch giving as much as it can to another torch.

He doesn't say anything when she gets up, taking her mug with her. The creaking of the stairs as she ascends haunts him a little, but he distracts himself with TBS news, takes out his cellphone to tweet his staff about beats that are due tomorrow.

He runs a hand through his sandy blond hair. _It's for your own good_ , and that takes over his brain like a sigh of relief. _Trust me_.

Telling himself that gives Joshima an odd sense of satisfaction, enough to go upstairs, bypass Mohoka's room to his room, and sleep his stress away.

* * *

Her uniform comes in the mail a few days later.

Four days later, Mohoka opens it. And it sits on the top shelf of her walk-in closet.

She doesn't wear it until the first day of school, April 1st.

* * *

 **This chapter took a dreary turn, a fact that this fic isn't always gonna be all laughs. Even though she knew the outcome, Mohoka still wasn't prepared and is annoyed that she actually passed. She thought that her purposely failing was a loud, banging statement to her father, but because she decided to help gravity girl, she unwittingly passed.**

 **Do you like Mohoka's friends? I've seen so many anime fics where the OC is part of the world and befriend canon characters, but they don't have friends of their own. And then the author gives an excuse saying, "Oh, it's hard for my OC to make friends," or "Oh, my OC is a loner," but how did your OC become friends with the canon characters so fast?**

 **I digress, you'll see more of Hato and Tomo in future chapters. And yes, Tomo has a** **quirk, I just didn't feel like explaining it in this chapter. Also, we got to see a small narrative on the side of Mohoka's father, and it won't be the last.**

 **Thanks for reading! Reviews = love! Seriously, the reviews are what determine whether if I should continue this or not. If I'm not getting feedback, I might as well drop the story. But hopefully that won't happen!**


	4. A Spring Getaway

**HAPPY NEW YEARS YOU LOVELY BASTARDS! Resolutions, Resolutions. My resolution for this year is to pump out as much chapters as I can for this story! Happy Reading!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Boku no Hero Academia. Only my OCs in this story.**

* * *

 _ **Chapter 4: A Spring Getaway**_

It's normal for him to feel physical pain, but it's one of those few moments where he feels emotional pain, a bone deep stinging fatigue. Present Mic noticed that he was tense when he was recording the congratulatory messages for the examinees that passed.

"Nervous?" he teased.

Yes. For that particular one, yes he was.

It was a surprise when he saw the young girl's name on the roster. "That one," Present Mic laughed, "I'm surprised she's on the roster too." He laughed along (that overused heroic laugh), but that was far from what it actually was. It wasn't hard for him to switch back and forth from being Musutafu's pillar and a dude that maybe if the wind blew strong enough, he would tip over and fly with the leaves (not from his own accord, of course.) But too recently he realized that between his two personas, he'd slipped through the cogs of cosmic reckoning and felt homeless. Between two extremes, he forgot what was in the middle, a montage that slowly splintered as the years flew.

And chips even more once he sees the girl's name again. If only that name didn't fill him and kill him at the same time. Izuku, the clever young lad, asked him one day at their meet up spot—

 **{…}**

" _Why do you always fly pass the Kachigemu Center?"_

" _Huh? What?"_

" _I-I-I'm not stalking you or anything! I-It's just that...I kinda memorized your flight pattern."_

" _Really?"_

" _I'm sorry! It must be weird for me—"_

" _Calm down, Izuku my boy. It's not weird. It's actually normal. That means you can sense me. It's the bond between the predecessor and successor. Because I still have embers left within me and you are my successor, we can feel the One for All inside of us. It's our bond. It means I fully accept you, and you fully accept me."_

" _Oh, so that's why I feel a pull…but do you like reading Kachigemu magazine?"_

" _Yeah, it's…very entertaining."_

" _It's the best for reading news about heroes and quirks, especially in other cities! They even have a junior hero of the year section! I've always wanted to be on that page!"_

" _I have confidence that you will, Izuku my boy."_

" _Thanks All Might...y'know, I've always found it strange."_

" _What?"_

" _It's really popular, but they don't really talk about you a lot compared to other news outlets."_

 **{...}**

It's a real good thing that his successor tends to go off tangent. In all honesty, he didn't feel like answering the question. It would've scratched at things that had to stay in the ground. Yet, how could it stay when he covered it with such shallow dirt? It was a long time ago, but it's wrong what they say about the past, he learned, about how you can bury it.

Because the past claws its way out.

Looking back now, he realizes he's been zooming by those smoky windows for the last ten years, expecting an invitation each and every time. And as everything went by, the cause disappeared and then reappeared as a habit. To every beck and call he answered, he never failed to shoot pass the building, maybe peer inside a little to see the inner workings of what could've been part of his life. But that bond is a rotting, decaying mess now.

All Might stares into the computer at his desk, looking over the roster of the students in class 1-A. Aizawa will be the homeroom teacher for this class. "Oh, brother…" he mumbles. Aizawa is the type of guy to expel someone because he found the person's face offensive to humanity. Why would they assign Aizawa of all people to this class?

Maybe to sift out the undesirables.

All Might looks at the roster again, stares longer at a redhead who had a flat expression on her face, flatter than pancake road kill. She was literally the last person to hand in her picture for her school I.D., handed it in 3:55 p.m. on the last day 5 minutes before the deadline. Judging by the picture, she looks like she's been scarred by sending a picture over here and may be due for therapy.

"Nise, huh?" _So your daughter will be going here now._

All Might layers the dirt on his memories, straightens his tie and gets up. He had to see if his successor made it to class on time.

And maybe subtly check for the redhead as well.

* * *

On her first day of school, she takes a selfie underneath a blooming sakura tree to show that she's skipping school.

Mohoka sends it to Tomo through text and Tomo replies: " _Playing hooky I see. I thought u would update through Snapchat."_

And Mohoka happily thumbs back: " _Your dumbassery is seeping through my phone. Think. Why would I NOT post it on Snapchat?"_

The ellipses blink for about 10 seconds until Tomo replies: " _Papa Nise"_

And she rolls her eyes: " _Yay, your genius is finally showing"_

Mohoka tucks her phone in her canvas bag and sighs in all the content that the world could ever offer…

 **{...}**

 _Because it was the morning of the first day of school and she felt like an oven-baked turd._

 _And an alarm clock that was never there before shrieked at 7 a.m to rise and shine and if not, enjoy the old man acrobat his way into her room. She groaned, turned her head to the sparkle lit window, and groaned at it. Groaned at the sun even, but upon receiving no pity from the sun (rays just poking her eyes out, the unhearing ears of the universe) she sighed and got out of bed, banged the snooze on the alarm clock on her way up._

 _After brushing her teeth and washing her face, it was time to put on that uniform. That gray uniform, the color that perfectly matched her enthusiasm for today. Ugh, and it fit her too well. Of course it would since she had to send her measurements to the school. But by God, she actually looked good in this and with her hair in an up do…_

 _She backed away from the mirror in actual terror._

 _She would've moved as fast as a turtle if her Dad didn't have her doing double time. He actually had to be in his office an hour earlier, but he told his staff that he would be coming in late because he didn't want to miss his daughter's 'big day.'_

 _Oh gag me, she thought. No seriously gag her because breakfast was horrible and she wondered why she hasn't put anti signs with her father's face around the kitchen yet. How do pancakes come out white? How do eggs come out brown, and how do sausages come out a hell-touched red? HOW? It's the thought that counts, he told her after seeing her pained face eat a sausage._

" _It's the tongue that counts," She said, chugging her green tea to kill any lingering abominations in her mouth._

 _Her Dad already had a pink and blue canvas bag packed and ready to go: notebooks, a pencil case with a sushi roll and ebi dancing with a star-struck background behind them, pencils, pens, highlighters, lead pencils, tissue, sticky notes, and a Koraru premium package bento. He was so ready for this and that sketched a shadowed annoyance over her forehead…_

 **{…}**

So Mohoka opens her canvas bag and sees a new set of clothing, stuffed by her of course. Her Dad is such a sucker for buying this bag. It could hold a whole world of items, including the perfect spring getaway from U.A. outfit sitting like the ultimate savior…

 **{…}**

 _Underneath the couch cushion. She smirked as she hovered over the neatly folded flat clothes, converses pressed tight in a Ziploc bag, and a small silver necklace tucked in the clothes. She wasn't trying to do too much with the outfit._

" _Mohoka, what're you doing? C'mon, it's bad to be late on your first day!" She heard her father yell from the front porch._

" _Hmm. Yeah. Coming." Items clean, cut, and stashed_

 **{…}**

If her father wants to have a-sneak-clothes-in-bag competition, it's only right that he plays fair.

Mohoka's phone bings. It's a text from Tomo: _"I won't tell Hato"_

Mohoka smirks at the text. It's not like Hato isn't into shenanigans, but he's the type of guy to lecture them about the social laws of life. He's actually into commitment and all that other jazz and would probably snitch to her father in the most subtle, tactful, Hato-esque way that would only end in capital punishment for her. Yeah, he's a good friend, but not in this situation.

Alas, now that she was free to roam, the first thing she needs is some tea to heal her stomach's anguish from this morning. Koucha, the holy sanctuary of teas, is the first mark to go. She hopes that the cashier Muryō Okane is there. Since Mohoka is such a loyal customer, he likes to sneak complimentary drinks for her now and again, and she would be a shit-face moron not to take advantage. The place isn't too far from Shinjuku park anyway, so that'll be her next mark.

She slings her bag over her right shoulder. For right now, she'll stay in the uniform and then change later on. Mohoka isn't that much of an asshole to sully the school's squeaky-clean reputation. She just doesn't wanna be under the roof of something like that. Plus, it's the first day of school so people are gonna question why she isn't in a uniform of some sort. It'd be a damn mess if people start bouncing rumors around in the neighborhood of her being a vagabond. Once she's out in the city, if anybody questions, she'll just say that she's a college student.

Mohoka walks out to the glazed streets of Musutafu. It's a few times she takes the time to appreciate the city's build. Smooth cemented buildings that shine like flashy sequin dresses, stores and shops that aren't run down, very much inviting actually with their signs and their unique font, a park full of vegetation so much so that maybe it can star in a nature documentary somewhere ahead of time. Musutafu is an eye pleasing city…when, when heroes and villians aren't duking and nuking the city.

Three blocks and a right later, she sees a familiar troll looking person. He's wearing U.A's uniform too, and she has to admit, the boys' uniform look snazzier than the girls. He has his hands glued to the straps of his yellow backpack, and a trippy smile as if someone keeps poking at his funny bone. Just him being in the uniform looks like he can burst into confetti any second now.

Mohoka thinks of avoiding him because to be honest she doesn't like being indebted to anyone. It's an opportunity for people to dangle that shit in your face, and she's not having that, and oh crap he just spotted her.

It's that long awkward silence like the last one they had, him staring at her and her staring at him. There he goes again making that face like he's gonna have a panic attack. It's too early in the morning to be annoying, she thinks, eyebrows a straight road. She breaks the stare, takes two steps to cross the road.

"Hey, u-um, excuse me…"

Oh universe, your ears are still unhearing.

She does a robotic head spin and looks at his nervous face. He squeaks. That annoys her even more, but screw it. She answers, "What?"

He's taken aback. He probably thought that she wouldn't answer. Then why would you talk in the first place!? He stutters, fingers fumbling and mouth muttering. Jesus, this is the kid who saved her? And to think she wasted her emotions feeling sorry for him.

"Yes?" She asks and sharpens the "s" at the end. It's a borderline hiss.

"S-Sorry! I-I just wanted to thank you…for saving me during the exam."

Mohoka stands still. Even the rolling wind passing by her couldn't budge her. She gives him her whole completed stare, not the usual half-baked stare that is her norm. He's the one who threw the punch; he's the one who made the giant robot snowball into oblivion, yet he's thanking her.

That's…insulting.

Mohoka guesses an attempt to not be categorized as an asshole is saving people. If that's the case, a homeless guy can be a superhero if he decides to give some of his begged money to someone who wants a small snack from a vending machine. What's more, now that she remembers the nightmare, is that people didn't have the common sense to realize that rescue was also a part of the test, and these are mofos who want to be heroes! Oh, heroes and their agendas. But, it's all a matter of perception. To him, it's a compliment. To her, it's an insult, mainly because someone who has zero interest in heroes and their existence figured out the test _and_ passed. She's a walking contradiction at this point.

She also remembers that he didn't score a single point so he probably got mega points for that huge punch. Saving her and the other girl went in his favor. It's all self-benefit in the end (well, mostly for him and the other chick because those added points royally screwed over her chance of a peaceful high school career.)

But, even if in self-benefit, he did technically still save her. Ugh, Goddamit.

Mohoka sighs, "Alright, follow me." She doesn't wait for his reply. She sidesteps him like she would a pothole and walks on. She hears an, "Eh!?" five seconds behind her and a, "W-Where are we going? School is the other way," a second behind her.

"There's a café up the road. I was heading there and thought 'Why not take a fellow U.A. student along with me'."

"Uh, um, T-Thank you!"

Sarcasm is not his thing, noted.

It's a quiet walk to the café where in Mohoka is texting and the boy is doing whatever.

" _There's this boy who goes to U.A. He's awkward af and he's kinda sucking my will to get tea"_ She group texts Tomo and Hato. Texting him in this circumstance won't hurt her plan.

Hato replies: " _This is unlike you. What happened to your "update through Snapchat" proclamation?"_

Tomo texts: " _He's makin' U not want tea? I have to meet this boy!"_

Mohoka texts back: " _Hey Hato, loosen that leash for me a little bit. And no, you'd rather meet a tree."_

She puts her phone away, and takes a look at the boy walking alongside her. He's looking down and looks so lost on what to do with himself. Once he sees her looking at him, he snaps to attention, his cheeks a shallow red.

"Hey."

"Y-Yes!"

"We're here."

Written in beautiful neon kanji, Koucha stands, sassy as always knowing that it's the best café to bless these streets. It's the norm today, a bunch of people chilling in and out the café, their drink a partner at their side. Seeing this always freshens her day.

"I've always wanted to go inside this place! It's the same café Kamui Woods and Mt. Lady go to!"

Ok, he just shot her mood to swiss cheese.

"The prices here are insane though! That's why I don't go."

"Insane? The average price is around 1500 yen."

"That's expensive!" Mohoka looks at him in actual pity.

They go inside and sure enough the inside is as cool as the out. The boy sticks to his spot, dazzled by the place.

"W-Wow…this café looks so cool…!" Mohoka nods. Of course it's cool. She goes here.

Crystal cup like lamps hang underneath retro glass tables and couches and booths for chairs. There's a serpentine staircase to the upper level, and the boy sees people walk up the stairs, each step a foot touches glow in a bright light blue. People are chopping it up with their friends and above them are delicate sculpted friezes of sakura blossoms. It's graceful but has a perfect mix of modern architecture. No wonder it attracts so much attention.

And now they're attracting attention.

People are whispering behind their hands and looking at the teens in awe. It's a high tide of, "OMG, U.A. students," and wonders of what their quirks are capable of. Oh yeah, people think highly of U.A., Mohoka sighs. She ignores them and goes to the main counter, but the boy is stuttering (when is he not) obviously embarrassed by the attention.

A young handsome man with a gotee at the counter smiles, and gives her a short wave. "Hey Moka-chan." Yes! Muryō is manning the cash register today.

"Hey Ryō."

"Is it the usual today?"

"Yep." She turns her head to the boy, "Do you want something or not?"

The boy looks like a fish out of water. "M-M-Me? Y-You're getting m-me…!" His face is red, the freckles on his cheeks turn into red pepper flakes.

"If you don't get something, you're openly admitting that your walk here was pointless," She says and returns her attention back to Muryō who at the moment was dragging his eyes down Mohoka's body. Not in a lustful way, but in a slight sour way, and it shows in his sucked in smile.

"You got accepted, huh?"

"Oh why yes I did, Muryō-san."

He twitches at the sarcastic honorific. A beat. "It's on the house." Bless your kitten soul, Muryō.

"So a medium hazelnut chai with whipped cream and a nutmeg white chocolate garnish on top and…what does your friend want?"

"I don't know." Muryō snorts. "Is that the answer to both drink and friendship?"

Mohoka's stare doesn't falter. "I don't know."

He looks at the green-haired boy who is still blushing and smiles. "Well, I recommend you try our signature drink for the day: Taro Milk Tea infused with citrus and mint, topped with our homemade cheesecake whipped cream and cocoa garnish."

The boy smiles nervously. "That sounds like a lot."

"Trust me, it's good. Is this your first time here?" The boy nods his head. "I wouldn't recommend you something bad. Plus, this is Kamui Wood's favorite drink."

"I'll take it!" Muryō, you sly mofo you.

He writes down the order. "Names please."

"M-Midoriya Izuku." Mohoka rolls her eyes. "You already know my name."

"Yeah, but I don't think he does." He points the butt of his pen to the green-haired teen. The boy or Midoriya she suppose, blushes at the mention.

"He'll know my name eventually," She says, which is true because they do go to the same school unfortunately. They both make faces like they didn't want to accept it but should anyway. That's the magic of being Mohoka Nise. Her reasoning may be stupid, but her argument is still sound, which is an impressive feat if one thinks about it.

The wait for their tea isn't long, the typical Koucha service. The girl who made them has it out in minutes and Muryō gives it to the teens. "Enjoy."

Midoriya is a bit skittish about the drink if his eyes say anything. It's a big drink and with a spiral whipped cream, color warm as a spring sunset, it's a creamy purple tower. It's looks good enough for her to try it the next time she's here (which probably might be tomorrow.) Mohoka drinks hers; her bored eyes watches Midoriya question the greatness of tea. She's a little ashamed that she brought him here now, but hey, it's free publicity for Koucha anyway.

"Drink it. They already made it. Don't waste my thank you."

A wide-eyed Midoriya looks at the redhead nonchalantly drink her tea. He blushes again for the damn what, sixth time? He covers his head with one hand, sweats like rainwater on a windowpane. His mouth is a motor driving away.

"It'snobigdeal,I,uh,youhelpedmetoo! Youdidn'thavetodosomethinglikethis! Ineverhadagirl...!"

His interaction with girls must really suck. Like, shooting star levels of awkward. She bets that if she tied her shoes a foot near him he'd blush. Well, it's not her problem.

After his incoherent muttering—she was not going to translate that shit—he drinks it. Once Mohoka sees his dopey smile, she knows he has entered tea nirvana.

"So?" She asks.

"This tastes amazing!" He says with a huge smile.

"Good to hear." She whips out her phone to see the time, "It's 8:15."

Midoriya might as well have shat himself. "W-W-W-WHAT!?"

"It's 8:15," She repeats. His nods are as wild as his hair, "School starts at 8:30! It's a 10 minute walk from here!"

"Yeah, so that leaves five minutes."

"We can't cut it that close on the first day!" Nah, her spring getaway from U.A. comes first. She can't let him infringe on that. She swears she's not a rebel. She's just…practical to her wants.

Midoriya dashes out the café so fast it's a miracle that his tea is still in his hand. It seems that he's willing to wait for her, but she shoos him away. "Be a maniac and run. I'm fine with walking," she says. He frowns, probably thinking it's not wise for her to do that, but he leaves it. "T-Thank you for the tea." He bows and shoots off.

Once he's gone, Mohoka puts a hand to her forehead. What a headache! The boy isn't a bad person, not at all, but shy stuttering messes aren't appealing. It's annoying to talk to people like that because they can't even hold a decent conversation without taking an awkward path to destruction. She's free from debt now so the deed is done. Now that's over with, let her spring getaway from U.A. commence.

* * *

"I rather meet a tree?" Tomo laughs. She's fine with that. While her friend is gallivanting around Musutafu, she's here in a stuffy classroom. The only fun she could have is defacing her desk and she got bored of that how long ago. Hato can't entertain her either because he's in a different classroom. There're people in the classroom that could serve as potential friends, but she's not clairvoyant. So the semester will just lead the way to that she guesses, though she doesn't feel particularly happy about it. It's absolutely normal for people to gravitate to who and what they know, and what she knows is Mohoka and Hato, mostly Mohoka.

Speaking of which…

"I wonder what Hato's doing. Let me…" At orientation, the faculty said to keep quirk usage to a minimum, but it's definitely not allowed during class. Breaking the rules on the first day of school, but hey, usually there's an unspoken leeway for things like this on the first day.

Tomo concentrates on the wires in her system, the connected strings and the cells that hold her existence. It branches to her organs than narrows to specific organs, namely her ear. She plays with the frequencies, increases her range until it's as large as a baseball field. Too much, she thinks and turns it down. Once she picks a good range, she can hear Hato's relaxed voice beyond layers of walls.

'There's always some type of irony in everything she says.' She hears Hato say. He must've read her text, 'The boy seems like an inconvenience…that's good.' Tomo frowns.

…What?

How is that a good thing? Mohoka clearly said the boy is a nuisance. He said it in such a serious and satisfied way too. If the black-haired teen was there, she would've glared at Hato, would've said that going to U.A. is punishment enough for her so parading in her misery is tilting little bit on the dickish side.

"Hato is so annoying sometimes," Tomo says as she clicks off her quirk. He doesn't know that she's skipping school right now. He doesn't need to know. Mohoka trusted her with that info, and that's enough.

If only she'd gone to this school. If she was in the school, Tomo wouldn't have to worry about making friends. They would talk their usual lingo that no else (except for Hato) would understand. They'd meet up with Hato and do what they usually do: mock people within a mile radius of them. Then she would block out Hato and listen to Mohoka, watch her speak inspirations that she didn't even know were inspirations; she would say it like she was ordering lunch from a small insignificant restaurant.

It was dismal to hear Mohoka got accepted into U.A. Tomo stuffed the feeling down, cemented it, and faced it with a casual straight face. It's not like she wasn't gonna see Mohoka ever again, but she knows that her heart would be pushed to an edge of a cliff if she meets with Mohoka one day, and she sees people tagging along, people whom Mohoka not only tolerates, but enjoys.

Why did she have to ruin her own mood? Actually, her mood was already a pile of dog shit, so much hasn't changed.

Tomo slumps over her desk, the frown from before never leaving. Mohoka hates her school, Tomo tells herself. She wouldn't want to be attached to anyone there. Hato is enough. She's definitely enough.

Minutes later, homeroom starts, but she can't focus. Her blue eyes keep shifting to her phone. She lost count after ten, but in unconscious total she glanced at her phone 33 times.

She'll text Mohoka during lunch then.

* * *

"Thank you for your purchase."

Mohoka struts out of Fukuroma, bags of clothes around her arms. The white angelic cutie pies on her arms as so precious; it was a good snatch that the Free People section was having a 40% spring sale. She might've missed this sale if she went school (probably due to her laziness and knowing that U.A. would've vacuumed her soul and turn it into a black hole.) She got a good amount of clothes to remodel her wardrobe for next season.

She checks the time. It's 11:35. She spent 3 hours enjoying her spring getaway. After she went back to Shinjuku park to change her clothes, she felt like a tourist. Going on a Musutafu shopping spree, eating crepes, going to a vintage game store—she definitely hit the jackpot there—and even more shopping. What a perfect first day of school.

It's lunchtime. Mohoka takes out the Koraru premium bento package. Now, she needs to scout a nice ambiance to eat this.

Several minutes later, jackhammers chatter in a rapid wood-pecking motion, buzz saws are wheezing at the long track run they have on a wooden ramp, and hammers are stomping their glory into nails. Mohoka is all right with it.

It's a construction of a new tea café, so of course she's all right.

She sits on a bench across the street and watches in pride as the construction workers push all their efforts into building the cafe to Notre Dame status. She heard it's supposed to be a French café, a Renaissance masterpiece. It seems Koucha has some competition in the future. She's been loyal to Koucha, so maybe she'll be in an alliance with them, as long as the other café doesn't entice her with foreign culture.

Her phone bings. It's a text from Tomo: " _Having lunch with Hato. Enjoying your spring fling U.A. sting?"_

Spring fling U.A. sting…it's good, but not as good as spring getaway from U.A.

She types back: " _I feel like I've been living in an alternate dimension with the many stores I've encountered. 15 years with an electric collar on my neck and a wrecking ball tied to my feet."_

There's a little pause then she sees the blinking ellipses: " _Papa Nise means best."_

Mohoka's tongue strikes the back of her teeth like flint lighting a spark on stone: " _That doesn't mean he knows best. There's a saying that the road to hell is paved with good intentions"_

And she ends it with that. She digs into her bento and sighs in relief. Man, she has to admit she can't make pickled rice as well as Koraru. Their umeboshi is a ball of perfection. She closes her eyes, inhales and exhales softly to the sky. She opens her eyes.

Oh wow, the sky is tan, shadowed with a thousand watt grin, blonde hair, and chiseled muscles.

Mohoka has a crushing feeling that her spring getaway is coming to a shrieking end. The buzzsaw buzzes in sympathy.

Why though?

"Hello, young lady! Shouldn't you be in school? More specifically, U.A.?"

Mohoka's mind feels tingly. No, not tingly, but like the vague shadow of a memory, or like remembrance through the pages of a history textbook, always there, but in the desperation of an exam totally forgotten. Dig deeper, she focuses, dig deeper. Go into the trash bin.

 **{...}**

 _Plus, you'll have All Might as a teacher!"_

 **{…}**

Oh, oh yeah.

Her father did say All Might was going to be a teacher at U.A. But since she liked when her mind says 'good gracious, that thing's still here?' and erases it, she completely forgot. But that was two months ago! Her father never reminded her either. He should've reminded her! All Might, the Symbol of Peace, the Pillar of Hope, spraying his hero knowledge to the younger generation? This is media's cash cow…but now that she thinks about it, Kachigemu, the magazine that her father leads, doesn't talk about All Might a lot. He probably leaves it to the other media outlets to drain it out.

Isn't that against the journalism mandate or something?

Anyone would love to be in her spot right now. Musutafu's prized possession is staring her smack dab in the face, and she counterattacks with such indifference. To show how much she doesn't care about the situation, she says to the Symbol of Peace, "Go away. I have no idea what you're talking about, sir."

And he swats that back in her face. "But you do, Miss Nise!" He's using teacher knowledge on her, "You are enrolled into U.A., yet you're here! Why is that?"

"Because I'm a citizen and citizens are allowed to enjoy their town."

"You are a citizen and a student as well! Therefore, you should be in school!

Is she really having a debate with All Might? And why does he have to speak with such ear-splitting enthusiasm?

"As a teacher, I cannot allow you to skip your first day!"

Oh God, his enthusiasm really makes one forget everything around them. She momentarily forgot that she just got caught and should be spin dashing her way out of this joint. Mohoka gets up with her stuff ready to dip, but it's too late. All Might grips her by the waist with his right arm, and with one uppercut move, all her belongings are propped on his left arm like bracelets. All Might jumps and blasts off into the sky.

Mohoka wiggles despite the far distance from the ground. This is blatant kidnapping. "This is kidnapping y'know. Maybe you should put me down and find your chill."

"Not until we're on school premises!"

"School is basically over. There's only three hours left, more likely less. I might as well be absent for the entire day."

"I'll cover that!" There's no breaking this guy! She looks down. She can't tell if her stomach dropped to her toes due to gravity or the sight of U.A.'s glass twinkling roof.

"All Might, let's make a deal…"

Her negotiations falls on deaf ears. And now she might be deaf because of All Might's pretentious landing making a loud booming noise, tearing her ears apart. Once the booming stops, she can finally hear sound. The sounds are of "oohs" and "aahs" and "All Might is actually here!" Then there's that one question someone just had to ask.

"Who's that he's carrying?"

All talk is wiped clean. The group of students, dressed in weird red, white, and blue jumpsuits, are staring holes into her. Some look curious, some look surprised, some look questionable, but one looks completely shocked. Ah, of course he has green hair.

"I believe you have one person missing in your class, Aizawa! Nise Mohoka! But don't worry, she's here now!"

Please spare her from that mashed up cheesy line.

She sets her eyes on the familiar troll and chuckles lowly.

"See? Didn't I say that you'll know my name eventually?"

SNAFU: Spring getaway from U.A. is a failure.

* * *

 **Before I say anything, I actually lost a reader because they didn't like the name Mohoka. If one knows BNHA, one would know that most of the characters name are puns, but to each his own. Pushing that aside...**

 **Mohoka almost missed the entire day of school, but All Might wasn't having it. Mohoka doesn't care for All Might as much as everyone else does. She just sees him as a regular person like how she sees everybody else. Maybe it's her aloofness to heroes that she sees All Might like that too, but whatever.**

 **Seems like there's some beef going on between All Might and Joshima. That's the reason I named the chapter "A Spring Getaway": Mohoka's plans and All Might's thoughts of himself and his life.**

 **Now that you readers seen a glimpse of Tomo's quirk, do you like it? Her quirk is enhancing the five main senses to an extraordinary degree. But of course, to every quirk there's a backlash. Her backlash is that if she does it for too long, she can cause temporary damage. Let's say she augments her sight. If done for an inordinate amount of time, she'll go temporarily blind. I was gonna have her be a bone manipulator, but I decided against that.** **Mohoka and Tomo have some history in the early days of middle school so if I continue with the story, I'll explain their friendship. Hato too of course.**

 **I purposely set my flashbacks to align with present time. So before anyone nags me about it, the human mind isn't an organized file cabinet. I can't ease into a scene when it come's to someone's thoughts. Thoughts are bouncy, uncontrollable things and it can get chaotic. Don't believe me, go watch Spongebob lol.**

 **Mohoka's opinion of Izuku isn't patronizing...Ok, maybe a little. She thinks he's annoying, and she doesn't like annoying people. That's why it gets me excited to write the interactions with her and the other kids in class 1-A. You'll be surprised about who she interacts with.**

 **On a side note, there's one thing that made me happy and kinda annoyed me simultaneously. So I received a P.M., which is love. It makes me feel so important when I receive messages from people, but I digress. The reader was praising how interesting the story is until they got to...pairings. The reader told me that they want Izuku and Mohoka to be together because they would be cute together and counterbalance each other.**

 _ **What?**_

 **Thinking about pairings when the story just started? Thinking** **about pairings when the main character hasn't even interacted with half of the cast? Like, are pairings that important? Yeah, I'll think about, but it's way too early in the game to be thinking about pairings, IMO. Probably later on down the line I'll do a poll and ask which pairing do people like. It's not gonna cement anything, I'm just curious.**

 **Well let me end this long ass scroll. Thank you for reading.**


	5. Topping Records

**Randomly updating is fun! Here's a new chapter. You don't know how many times I rewrote this chapter, and I still believe it came out horrible, but that's me.**

 **Please enjoy!**

* * *

 _ **Chapter 5: Topping Records**_

If All Might was trying to humiliate her, then it's mission failure for him for once.

Really, it was a sincere attempt, but not enough for Mohoka to duck for cover. Actually, she's unabashed to this whole jumpsuit jamboree thing that's going on in the field. It still doesn't disavow the fact that her introduction was the crappiest intro yet, and she might be the only one in this school to have All Might on her blacklist.

It's good that homeless sensei didn't fully address the half a day scandal. He just eyeballed her underneath shadowed bangs, possibly did some sneer behind his homemade scarf and told her to go to the girls' locker room to change.

Once she comes out, homely sensei points to the crowd of kids, and gestures her to join the pit of eternal stares. Seriously, how long are they going to stare at her? Are they trying to top records here?

Mohoka heads to the back of the crowd, averts her eyes from those whispering kids, and sets her gaze forward (more at a tree then at homeless sensei.) Not because of shame, but their stares are really bugging the crap out of her. They either say something or seal their mouths in peace.

"I don't care! She's cute!"

Yeah, keep those mouths sealed please.

Homeless sensei's voice is incredible: it's able to whisk her to La La Land 5x times faster then her former teachers. That's saying alot. Back in middle school, people would ask if her if she died while taking notes during Math. She'd tell Tomo and Hato that she has "ascended", and they'd know what to do after that (cover her and do some morse code in case their teacher picked her to answer a question.)

So, the next five minutes is her figuring out what spiritual plane she zoned out to until a scorching yell brings her back to earth.

"DIE!" And a whoosh beats her in the face, her ponytail swinging around with it. She tilts her head up and sees a ball covered in smoke and fire blasting into the sky.

"Wow!"

"That looks fun!"

"705 meters? That's insane!"

Mohoka looks at the kid who threw the ball, a light ash blondie who has the most homicidal smirk ever. How come no one notices this? Or they do but they're too astonished by his throw to care. While they do that, Mohoka thinks that the boy's mangled pitch position needs a lot of fixing.

"Oh, you think that you'll have fun here?" Homeless sensei says darkly. No, quite hellish, Mohoka doesn't say. From the looks of it, Homeless sensei is prepping for an edgy rant, so she'll block his very existence for another five minutes. Zoning out isn't an option because they're bound to disrupt her tranquility, so she opts for looking around.

The sports field is enormous, but she figured out months ago that U.A likes their stuff big and grandiose on a record breaking level. While huge, it looks like a regular athletic playground: track field, a tennis court, a basketball court, a stranger hiding behind one of the gym buildings.

Mohoka squints her eyes, y'know just for clear accuracy and hoping that being at the school isn't already giving her hallucinations. But alas, there's a person observing her and the others from afar. She can't make out what he's wearing, but she can sketch some of his features. He looks like a Dorito chip, Cool Ranch flavor if she's really critical about it.

She squeezes her face, her mouth a nasty frown. If he was a beautiful stranger, she kinda would've given him a pass, but him being facially challenged and stalking a group of teens makes it much worse. She glues her gaze at the stranger though, enthralled by how ugly he is (or maybe using him as a reason to not pay attention at all, her options are pretty low here.)

"What're you looking at?"

Mohoka turns at the voice and sees confused eyes looking at her. A girl in fact with short purple hair, bangs a steep slope down her face. Mohoka returns her confusion, not to spar with the girl, but to really figure out what the hell her ears are suppose to be. Mohoka isn't normally shallow, but she's thankful that her quirk doesn't physically change her appearance.

Oh, ok, they're headphone jacks. Got it.

Now that she figured that out, she answers the girl's question, "Just some stranger danger business. Don't worry about it."

"W-Wha…?"

A collective gasp from the crowd cuts her off. Homeless sensei must've said something important apparently.

"The kid who ranks last gets expelled!? This is our first day here! That's just too unreasonable!"

Well, half first day for her, but now her attention is fully devoted to Homeless sensei. It couldn't be a brain fart on her part. She heard whoever shouted out the obvious clearly. Explain your cause, Mohoka thinks, clenching her hands earnestly. God, her being earnest on U.A. grounds? Such an oxymoron.

"This is 'Plus Ultra.' I expect you to overcome these trials and climb to the top." He smirks, enjoying everyone's reactions.

She has the option to not participate in any of these activities. There's a good, loyal bench over by the trees she can sit on and oversee their fun. It's an option, an ugly option now that her brain is processing the result. Homeless-sensei, if you blow away the rags, scruff, and aloofness, he's a caring enforcer, she could tell. He has that gleam, different from All Might, not bright, but it still shines, like obsidian born from the last gurgle of a volcano.

He'd be the type to force her to do something, so participating is her best bet.

Homeless sensei's eyes land on Mohoka. She sees him raise a suspicious eyebrow, probably surprise that there's a determination in her face. Mohoka nods with deep conviction, and that appeases Homeless sensei, well if turning his back to her answers it. It's a mix of worry and terror, but a huge amount of determination from the others.

From her, it's determination to stay at the bottom of this hero carved totem pole.

* * *

The first trial is a 50-meter dash. After all the performances she saw, Mohoka could see that most of them are really damn terrified of coming in last place, especially Midoriya, the green troll. After he went against the homicidal blondie, he looked like someone shot him in his foot, and recovery was an impossible gain. Homicidal blondie jetted by him with his firecracker of a quirk in such ease. Burnt ease, like he's salty or something. Whatever troll did to him, homicidal blondie is holding a severe grudge.

Welp, not her problem. She's here to reassure everyone that she's their hidden savior (and to also see their eyebrows bend under their frustration.)

"Mineta Minoru and Nise Mohoka, you're up."

Mohoka whines a little because as concrete her plan is, doing it is still an annoying task. Nevertheless, she walks to the starting line. The person who's with her looks at her and smiles…a kind of flirty smile now that she's actually seeing it. Half-lidded eyes, a discrete wink, yeah he's flirting. It's not really bothersome. They are at that age anyways.

The boy's head is purple and lumpy; it looks like a row of big grapes just sprouted from his head. What if they are grapes? He's a self-made snack if that's the case. He's as short as a sugar-starved kindergartener, which could be a detriment to him if he's planning to hit on some girls.

"Hey," He says, slow and suggestive. By his voice, he's the one who called her cute minutes before. "I hope you stay in. You're too hot to get expelled."

"Well, you're gonna be highly disappointed," She mumbles with the most shit eating grin Japan has yet to see.

"Go!" Homeless sensei shouts.

While Grape boy runs, Mohoka does a light jog. No, It's too kind to call it that: A brisk walk. With a flat face, she continues her brisk walk, ignoring the flabbergasted noises of the crowd behind her.

"What in the actual fuck is she doing?"

"She's not taking this seriously at all!

"Does she want to get expelled!?"

"She did try to skip the first day…"

"How is sensei allowing this?"

After Mohoka crosses the end line, she sees a stunned crowd gazing at her with wide eyes and jaws. Hate me, she thinks, Hate me all over! Homeless sensei's thumb stomps on the stopwatch. Then he looks at her with bored eyes like he's already done with her, but won't voice it.

"Mineta Minoru. 6.28 seconds. Nise Mohoka. 15.5 seconds."

"Why!?" Grape boy screams, more for her than himself; maybe because she looks so proud of her trash score.

"Because in middle school I got a 8.6, but now I have 15.5."

"Why would you want that!? You're supposed to want a lower time!"

She shrugs his pain off her shoulders and walks back to the slack jawed teens. After they shake off their shock, they whisper for a half a minute. They make a unanimous decision: don't look at her, don't talk to her, don't even be near her. Avoid her by any means possible because failure is infectious. While Homeless sensei continues his feign indifference, she looks back at the gym building.

Aww, Dorito Dude isn't there anymore. Who is that guy anyway?

Whatever. She shouldn't be questioning the whereabouts of a random Dorito stranger. She has an apprehension test to fail.

* * *

Trial 2 is a grip test. Mohoka makes sure her middle school score keeps its place: 45kg=45kg

Trial 3 is standing long jump. She hops into the sandbox, very close to the end of her starting point, and hops back out.

Trial 4 is sustained sideways jump and she walks a straight line till the very end.

Trial 5, she throws the ball lazily and scores 28 meters.

After her turn for Trail 6, people can't uphold their decree and start whispering again.

"Dude, she's putting in so much effort to fail."

"Seriously, why is she here?"

"Does it matter? She's definitely gonna be ranked last so it's good for everyone else." Finally, someone with common sense.

"If that dumbass chick wants to fail, let her."

Don't worry, Mohoka thinks, she'll be out of here soon. They finally recognize it's a win-win situation.

She peers at Homeless-sensei. His face is blank as ever and if possible, it increases tenfold once he spots her staring him down. Mohoka rolls her eyes to the depths of skull and stares ahead only to peep a green troll eyeing her. His face looks sunken in. From the chatter, it seems that he wasn't doing so hot. His performances were subpar at best and right now he could be feeling very pathetic. But…Mohoka furrows her eyebrows.

She can't tell if the disappointment is aimed at himself or her.

She could pull a smarmy grin his way, but he's already feeling dejected about his 2nd place for dead last, so she'll leave him alone. See, benevolence.

"Midoriya Izuku," Homeless-sensei calls, and the green troll spins around to meet Homeless-sensei's mute stare. "You're up."

Homeless-sensei hands him a ball. Green troll steps to the field.

Mohoka wants this to be over already. Like the majority, he must beyond tired of her antics and would be sharing his displeasure to the faculty.

Green troll wheels his arm back, ready to pitch, but there're white streaks catching her attention instead. There're waving and curving about in the sky, so carefree and boundless. She traces the white bandages to the source, which turns out to be a scarf, the makeshift one that Homeless-sensei is wearing. His scarf wraps around him in a ribcage of bandages as his eyes, red and cracked, stays on green troll.

His quirk is activated, and it looks like he's using it on the troll, but why? Mohoka is unwillingly in unison with the teens around her who are just as puzzled as she is (Maybe a handful of students are also excited to see his quirk's performance and are all right with using green troll as a guinea pig.)

Green troll finally throws the ball and…he sucks terribly at it.

"Forty-six meters."

The green troll freezes on the spot at his poor throw. No one can see his face, but his posture is tall tale of devastation.

"I erased your quirk." Homeless-sensei sighs, ruffling his hair lightly.

There's a moment of wonder for the class's sensei. The students exchange glances and clean glee. An underground hero they say because they've never heard of him in the media or any other publicity broadcasting. But Mohoka has heard of him. Not of her own interest of course, but little scatters from her father and assistants from Kachigemu magazine who've been trying to catch this guy on the media fishhook. This "Eraserhead" apparently hates exposure and avoids it as if it was an invitation to a heart attack.

If this homely guy hates attention so much, being a teacher at U.A., one of the most or the most renowned school, is kind of contradicting, no? Logic.

His scarf snakes around troll, yanks him to a firm position, and Homeless-sensei gives him a lecture. "It defies reason. How did someone like you manage to enter this academy?" A useless lecture at that. Those words should be directed at her.

"From what I observed, you can't rein in your quirk's full power. You can't use it efficiently at all. Did you believe someone would come save you after you crippled yourself?" He draws green troll closer. "Whatever hopes you may have nursed from your imminent rescue, nobody is in a position to come to your aid…"

The more she hears, the more she rolls her eyes. But she remembers green troll's messed up arm during the preliminary exam, brown, flaky and frankly gross, but from what little she saw of him, he seemed like a hard-worker. Well, at least more determined than her (and that goes for everybody.)

Then Mohoka laughs; she laughs at Homeless-sensei, laughs at green troll, and laughs at herself because she can't believe her mind is leading her to do what she's about to do next.

"What's your point?" Her question punctures his speech, deflates it as it slowly loses effect and relevance. Her question doesn't startle him, but more so elicits a small reaction; just like him, listless, his eyes move to the redhead who's been joyously insufferable and Mohoka knows she's been. That doesn't stop her mouth from switching back and forth between a smirk and a flat line. If she's gonna say something worth a shit, she maybe should put some seriousness behind it. All the others look at her, crossed between annoyed and surprised, but all of it cascades down her shoulders and the wind helps whisk it far away.

Homeless-sensei, without breaking eye contact, drops green troll, and saunters over to her, quirk still active. He gives her a hard red gaze. She's unresponsive, partly from trying to keep her face under control. Homeless-sensei looks like a raging crack-head, she's really trying hard to hold in her laughter.

"You think you're in any position to speak?" He says, "You've been grating on everybody's nerves since you got here."

"You're right. I have. But it's weird," Mohoka crosses her arms. "You haven't called me out once, but you're quick to put him on the spot. Why is that?"

"I don't waste breath on degenerates," Homeless-sensei says, flatly.

"Then expel me," She prompts.

He stares her down, eyes cracking a little more from his time undue because of his quirk. Or she's actually making him angry, a valuable point for her. Her gaze doesn't falter; his unimpressed look won't lose.

A couple seconds later, he deactivates his quirk. His hair and bandages droop and so does his eyes. 'Hnnn' a sound calmly suppressing but strangely smug; Mohoka raises her eyebrows. He turns his back and addresses green troll, "I gave you back your quirk…try the ball pitch a second time."

That sound Homeless sensei made was rather suspicious, but Mohoka leaves it alone. Being here is already wasting her time and she'd waste it even more deciphering a person cosplaying as a hobo and his choice of sounds.

Soon enough, the trials come to an end, and everyone gathers around Homeless-sensei to hear the final results. There's some nervous chatter, but the students who realized the situation side-eye Mohoka, chilled and ready to accept any score they get. She approves. She too is waiting for Homeless-sensei's imparting words.

"Oh yeah, that whole expulsion thing was a lie."

While everything unsettles, and the world turns flat, she sees why Homeless-sensei made that noise earlier. Liar, she's inclined to say, but no, it's not that. It's too hard to believe that her ass just got duped by an educated hobo.

She's the lone dot on a die surrounded by sameness.

As everyone breathes a sigh of relief, Mohoka's whole body turns to stone. She can see it, Homeless-sensei's smirk waving like a red flag in front of her eyes.

Mohoka scowls. This day is just shitting all over her mood.

* * *

Mohoka doesn't bother going to the class to see her curriculum sheets. It doesn't make sense. For the most of the time she's been here, she planned for failure and was hoping to level up to expulsion, but that homeless mofo just had to troll her so hard. She's more annoyed by that then the stunt All Might pulled earlier.

She roams the neat hallways, cheeky and imposing. People get it already; this school has finesse like no other. She scoffs at impressiveness. It leans more to obnoxious, but who is she to critique architecture.

Her quest for the teachers' lounge couldn't get more maze-like. These gaping corridors are trolling her the same as Homeless-sensei. But, All Might is holding her belongings hostage. That sale was amazing so of course she'll save them from his enthusiastic tyranny.

Huh, funny. She's talking about rescuing. Objects, yes, but still under the category of rescuing. She shall stop now.

Finally, Mohoka finds the teacher lounge. The door is open. She nonchalantly walks in.

All Might's desk is there, her belongings are there, but All Might isn't there. Instead, there's an emaciated person dressed in a crisp tan suit and a red tie, comfortingly sitting down in the rolling chair perched at his desk. Yes, she's seen him before.

The stranger turns around and freezes at the sight of her. There is a fraction of a second when their eyes meet, and for as long as it took to happen Mohoka knows—yes, she knows!—that this guy sitting in All Might's desk is thinking the same thing as herself. An unmistakable message passes.

"Holy shit, Dorito dude," Mohoka says airily.

"Holy…shit!" Emphasizing the hell out the word shit, Dorito dude expands and swells and the result is a beaming All Might looking at her dead in the eyes. Mystified, she veils herself from what she just saw and says, "Well…I'm just gonna grab my stuff…" Mohoka squints. She sees fast stripes of a white, nice, smooth ceiling, and it runs and stretches far pass her vision. She has to give props; it really is a nice ceiling, Mohoka thinks, hair flapping chaotically. She's being whipped around like a flag A human Japanese flag she is. There're two things Mohoka knows for sure.

All Might-Dorito dude-has one helluva grip (as expected) and... she has a severe wedgie.

All Might takes her into a room and immediately closes it. He sits her down in a supple green couch and quickly sits across from her in another green couch. He places his hands together. Smiling, he says, tensely, "Child, please forget what you just saw!"

Mohoka eyes him incredulously. "How could I forget something like that? Dorito Dude is forever imprinted in my mind."

"Dorito Dude?" All Might asks. His eyebrows twitch a little bit. Offended much? "I look like a chip?"

"Right now you don't." Mohoka reclines into the chair. "All Might's true image. Who would've guessed? Y'know you're basically a fraud, right?"

"You're not the first one to call me that." He sighs. "You cannot tell anyone."

Mohoka makes a face. "Who am I gonna run off and tell? I don't have any friends here, and the people who are usually around me won't care if I told them." All Might gives her a hard stare. "But I won't. Relax."

He listens to her and calms himself, his whole body lax now. "That's good to hear!" All Might leans forward, fixed her with a sympathetic stare. "You haven't made any friends?"

Mohoka bats his stare out her face. Sympathy is far from what she needs. "Nope, and I don't really care to." She could say that All Might's stunt earlier kind of ruined it, but she knows that the students in the class were mainly affronted by her aloofness and dispassion for the school. Now that she remembers, when the students decided not to associate themselves with her, she saw one person, a boy, staring intensely at her, like he wanted to slap all her neck off. He had on glasses.

That was not the look of friendship but the look of loathing.

All Might, while concerned, didn't prod. He then rubs his chin in thought before speaking. "I almost forgot. Don't tell your father either. I know he runs Kachigemu—"

"They don't care about you," Mohoka cuts in blatantly.

Black sclera widens, blue pupils about to fall into his eye sockets. His eyes then droop. "Right," he says.

"Can I get my stuff back now?" She asks.

"Uh, yeah," All Might and Mohoka stand. They leave the resting room and walk the now semi-filled hallway. Mohoka notices that All Might's enthusiasm faded once they started talking about her father's magazine company. Well, it's true. They don't care about him, and it's kind of applauding that they manage to top records in popular news media without using All Might as a foundation.

"It's alright, Dorito dude. There's other news outlets to showoff in," Mohoka says with a shrug.

All Might pinches the bridge of his nose. "Please stop calling me that."

* * *

Before she goes home, she stops by Koucha once more to restore her soul. It's still weird that All Might, the biggest hero in Japan, revealed his secret to her, someone who strived for self-expulsion. She grumbles at the thought. Homeless-sensei is a new addition to her blacklist. He had the skills to steal first place on her list.

Anyway, as long as his secret doesn't disrupt her life, she's cool with his guise.

"Pfft. Still can't believe All Might is Dorito dude." She laughs to herself as she enters the place. It's not as busy as this morning, but not empty, a mild setting for the midday.

Muryō is behind the counter, but it looks like he's wrapping up his shift, removing his apron and shining the counter clean for the next employee. Standing in front of him is a woman, voluminous blonde hair with two curled strands. She's wearing jeans pants, a simple red shirt, and a tan blazer. She stands with her hands stapled to her hips and a slight pout on her face.

She looks like she's a vain woman, Mohoka thinks.

"Hurry up, Ryō. They cancel reservations if we're ten minutes late."

"I'm coming, Yuu. Hold on for a bit longer," He says, wiping the counter some more.

It sounds like Muryō is about to go on a date. Slightly curious, Mohoka made her presence known.

"Hey, Ryō," Mohoka greets.

"Oh, hey Moka-chan. Didn't see you there." He narrows his eyes "No freebies. I'm about to leave."

"Yeah, whatever." She turns to the woman. "Who's this? Your girlfriend?"

"You don't know who I am?" She asks in disbelief. She snaps her head to Muryō who only shrugs off her reaction. "People always recognize me at first glance."

"I don't."

"I'm Mt. Lady!" She huffs.

How many people are going to hit her with bombshells today? "Muryō…you're dating Mt. Lady?"

"Yeah," He simply replies.

Mohoka exchange glances with the both of them. To be fair, Mt. Lady is a pretty woman, although a little pretentious and Muryō is handsome to say the least. They're a nice match. No wonder he said Mt. Lady comes here a lot. Or was that green troll?

"Huh, it's not as weird as I thought it'd be. You'll do great in this aesthetically sensitive world," Mohoka says.

"Thanks?" He says in a questionable tone. "I'm gonna change in the back."

"You don't need to. The dress code here makes you look sexy. Hold on." Mt. Lady unbuttoned the two top buttons from his black dress shirt, showing some collarbone. "I have such a hot boyfriend."

"Not here. Do that on your date," Mohoka grimaces. This atmosphere is for tea, not intimacy.

Mt. Lady laughs in good spirit. "You'll find something like this in the near future."

"Maybe. I kinda see myself as asexual."

"Don't you think that's a big decision for someone your age?" Muryō asks, a bit anxious.

"After seeing the people in my generation, nope."

Mt. Lady checks her phone and gasps. "Ryō, we're definitely going to be late if we stay here any longer."

"Okay, let's go." He takes Mt. Lady's hand and heads for the door. "See you later, Moka-chan."

"Yup." They leave and now she has to pay for a drink. This day has been nothing but annoying.

* * *

When she arrives home, her Dad is there.

He's scrolling through his phone, most likely on Twitter, checking for updates and stories for his team to work on. He's sitting in the living room, laptop resting on the table in front of him. There're papers scattered on the table: press releases, maybe a transmission from a conference or something. All she knows is that he's clogging up the living room with his work that he could've easily done back in his office at the Kachigemu center or even at his large desk in his bedroom.

"You can easily do this in your bedroom, y'know," Mohoka says, kicking off her shoes in the doorway.

Joshima looks up from his phone then smiles. "I know, but I was waiting for you. Wanna know how your first day of school went."

Spring getaway from U.A. failure, All Might being annoying as hell, Classmates unanimous in their hate for her, trolled by a teacher who looks like he came from a homeless shelter, All Might entrusting her with a grave secret that could shatter his reputation in an instant, Mt. Lady's latent consideration of being her personal matchmaker…

"It sucked," She declares, flinging herself on the couch across from her father.

Joshima frowns, laying his phone on the table. "A bad day, huh?"

"Yes, and you expected it." Mohoka says. She fixates him with a stare that she knows he can't destroy with his reasoning. Joshima is stunned at first, but then his frown deepens. He leans forward. "I tried to make the day more bearable for you,"

"I appreciate it, but it didn't really help," She says offhandedly. Truth be told, her Dad made the morning unbearable. His actions caused her to be more zealous for the spring getaway from U.A. plan. 'Papa Nise means best,' she remembers Tomo's text. It doesn't preclude him from making horrible decisions.

Joshima sighs, heavy, tired. "Well, I tried."

"Classmates hate me, sensei annoyed by me…" She says, plucking her mental daisy.

"Then what do you want me to do, Mohoka?" Joshima jumps forward, hovering his laptop. He throws wild hand gestures, shaking it in Mohoka's direction. It's like he's throwing a tantrum at his own disaster.

No proper reaction, per usual. Mohoka fixes her posture on the couch. For a fracture of a second, when their eyes meet, they're not thinking the same thing. It's foggy, the bridges knotted and hard to travel. They can't meet halfway. A message can't cross. Though both of them have hazel eyes, what goes on behind it makes their eyes different.

"Listen," She finally answers. "Just listen."

Joshima rubs his temples in fast circles. "How can I listen to someone who doesn't know what they want in life? You don't join anything! You can't stick to anything!"

"That's not for you decide now is it?" She says flippantly. "I tried this. I don't like it and you knew that from the start, but you still pushed and pushed because you're selfish. You. Are. Selfish." Mohoka says this so casually she might as well be talking about grass, paint, every monotony thing that the world can offer on a list.

That sticks to Joshima. He slowly sinks into the couch, mouth ajar, but he doesn't utter a word. A rigid statue he's become in the face of his daughter who looks at him in disgrace. Speechless or contemplative, Mohoka could care less. Joshima's eyes dances across Mohoka's face, struggling to find his words. She wouldn't mind if he never finds them, content to lay there and let whatever he can't say stay inside his mind.

Her father is right, she hasn't been thinking about the future, but she has time. She doesn't need to decide now nor does her father have the right to push it.

She did say that cooking was an idea, but now she realizes she was mostly talking out of her ass. It's not what she wants to pursue. She didn't join anything in middle school. She wouldn't in high school. She can't see her path, but she knows that it's not a heroic one.

Damn it, why can't she just enjoy the finer things in life?

"Transfer." Joshima's voice severs her from her thoughts. Her attention is back on him. He's looking at her face melting into what Mohoka can only describe as misery. He sits back in the couch. There's a short silence.

Joshima tweets are stacking. Tweet. Tweet. Tweet.

"Transfer," He repeats. "I'll transfer you to Hanyu. But you'll have to wait until next semester. Schools are pretty much finalized now."

In those gone eyes of hers, there's a faint twinkle of stardust. But he won't see it. It disappears as soon as it comes. She doesn't want him to see it. "I'll get the papers around the beginning of summer. You'll be in Hanyu by the start of September."

Mohoka stands. "That's all I needed to hear."

She grabs her belongings by the doorway. Mohoka doesn't have the energy to care that her father can see the shopping bags around her arms. She ascends the stairs. This is just a normal conversation between father and daughter. Nothing more, nothing less.

She goes into her room and dives into her bed. It's a bad idea, as the odds of getting up again seem to reduce each time. That's not in any way some dramatic allusion to death, just a statement as to the vitality and reliability of her joints. Or maybe her joints are cracking under the weight of all the lives she's not living.

* * *

 **Like I said, this chapter ain't the best, but it has context. So, Mohoka saw All Might's true appearance...I debated whether I should put it in this chapter or not, but I thought it'd be lame if she found out through Izuku or something close to that. Plus, it's the first stage of development between All Might and Mohoka. As you can tell, Mohoka doesn't really care for All Might, so we'll see how their relationship will develop. But her calling All Might "Dorito dude", even I was rolling when I was writing this.**

 **Just like the title Everybody Hates Chris, we can say Everybody Hates Mohoka because most of her classmates dislike her. The only two that like her is Mineta, but that's mostly because he thinks she's pretty, and Izuku but even that's waning with how she conducted herself this chapter. But we have to admit, Aizawa bated her with expulsion and she hates that she's been tricked by him. We'll find out soon (next chapter to be exact) why Aizawa didn't expel her (it's not only because he's a troll.) It also seems someone is salty about her not getting expelled...**

 **Muryo x Mt. Lady!? At first I did it for fun, but then I started to dive deeper and realized and I can actually create something from this relationship. I also wanted Mt. Lady to be a three-dimensional character. The way the manga portrays her, she's a egotistical hero. Yeah, she saves people, but is very pretentious about it. She does it mainly for fame and glory, like a popularity contest. So being in a relationship with Muryo, a levelheaded person who isn't pompous about his looks, hopefully can change her perspective about certain things.**

 **It seems Mohoka got her way this time. Joshima gave in and said he'll transfer her out. I was also debating this scene and kinda wish that I could flesh it out more, but I wanted to get this chapter out ASAP. It's kinda painful that their interactions always end on a sour note. It sucks to see father and daughter clash like this, but sometimes that's how the world works. So now, Mohoka only needs to survive in U.A. until summer vacation starts. Do you think she can survive? Who knows? (I do).**

 **Thanks for reading! I'm such a slow updater, I don't know how you guys put up with me.**


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